Mummy Told Me Not to Tell

by Cathy Glass

  ‘Hi!’ I said to them both.

  Reece grinned with his mouth full. ‘I’m looking after Maisie,’ he said proudly.

  ‘Well done. Good boy.’ Smiling, I went over and kissed the top of his head.

  ‘He’s been helping me all morning, haven’t you, Reece?’ Nicola said.

  Reece nodded, and then turning to Maisie said: ‘Come on, eat up, and you will grow big like me.’ Maisie giggled.

  ‘Time for a coffee?’ Nicola asked.

  ‘I’d love one,’ I said.

  I hovered in the kitchen, keeping an eye on Maisie as Nicola made some coffee. ‘Was he really OK?’ I asked her quietly as we leant against the kitchen cabinets and sipped our coffee. We were at the far end of the kitchen and out of earshot of Reece.

  ‘Yes. Why?’ Nicola said. ‘You sound as though you were expecting something different.’

  ‘No. It’s just that I have seen his education statement and it’s horrendous. Apparently he was quite aggressive at his other schools. I must admit I was shocked by what I read.’

  Nicola shrugged. ‘He’s been great with me.’ We both looked down the length of the kitchen and at the children. ‘It was probably learned behaviour,’ she added.

  ‘Yes, that’s what I told the head. I hope Reece proves me right.’

  ‘He will do. You worry too much. Look at him: he’s fine.’

  I nodded. ‘Yes, he is, isn’t he?’

  We stayed for about half an hour, Nicola and I finishing our coffee and chatting, while Reece and Maisie finished their lunch. Then Nicola lifted Maisie out of the high chair and Reece and Maisie played with her push-along toys. Thanking Nicola again, we said our goodbyes and left.

  ‘Can I play with Maisie again?’ Reece asked in the car.

  ‘Maybe. But tomorrow you will be playing with children your own age at school.’

  ‘Yippee!’ he yelled from the back.

  ‘I’ve bought your school uniform and guess what colour it is?’

  ‘Navy!’ he yelled.

  ‘That’s right, but Reece, try not to shout. You’ll be in school tomorrow and you can’t shout there.’

  ‘Why not? I did before.’

  ‘I know, and it got you into trouble. You will need to speak more quietly at your new school. And do as you are told.’

  ‘OK, Cathy. I will.’

  ‘Good boy. I know you’ll do just fine.’

  Chapter Eleven:

  An Uncertain Start

  I took a photograph of Reece the next morning before we left for school. He stood in the living room, grinning proudly and posing in his new school uniform with his PE bag over his shoulder. Because we were going into school early we were leaving before the girls. They stood behind me as I took the photograph, telling Reece how smart he looked and wishing him luck on his first day. It was a real family occasion for all of us, and Reece knew that we would all be thinking about him and rooting for him as he completed this milestone.

  I was also looking pretty smart in my suit, as I too would be in school for the morning and presumably meeting some of the staff. With Reece chatting about all the things he anticipated doing — PE, eating lunch, making new friends and even some work — we said goodbye to the girls and got into my car, parked on the driveway. Lucy and Paula waved us off, and I drove up the road, and then took a number of ‘back-doubles’ to avoid the traffic in the high street. Reece was now telling me what he thought he would be having for his school dinner — beef burgers and tinned spaghetti hoops, for while reducing the number of times he ate these, I hadn’t eliminated them from his diet. He ate healthily the rest of the time, so processed was all right once a week, and it was still his favourite meal.

  I parked in the road a little way from the school and held Reece’s hand as we walked along the pavement and up to the main gate. It wasn’t security locked, as the children would be arriving shortly to wait in the playground until the bell rang at the start of school. I heaved open the massive iron gate and we crossed the playground. Reece was holding my hand very tightly now and was uncharacteristically quiet. I could feel his nervous anticipation, as indeed I could feel mine. It was a big day for us both.

  True to her word, Mrs Morrison was waiting for us in reception. ‘Hello,’ she said, smiling first at Reece and then at me. ‘Lovely to meet you, Reece.’

  ‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Reece, this is Mrs Morrison, the lady who will be looking after you in school.’

  Reece smiled sheepishly but didn’t say anything. I was reminded again of how much progress he had made, for had this meeting taken place three months previously he would have pulled his hand from mine and run off, making lots of loud and silly noises.

  Mrs Morrison bent forward so that she was at eye level with Reece. ‘I’m going to show you round the school first,’ she said. ‘Then we will join your class. Your teacher is called Miss Broom. She is new to the school like you.’

  Reece nodded, while I thought of the maxim of new brooms sweeping clean. I also thought that Mrs Morrison, despite her inexperience as a TA, was pitching her introduction exactly right. She clearly had a natural rapport with children. Reece was happy to take her hand and the three of us exited through the door with all the ‘welcome’ signs and into the corridor.

  ‘We are going to take your mum to the staff room first,’ Mrs Morrison said. ‘Then I’ll show you the rest of the school.’

  Reece looked at me questioningly and I knew why. ‘Actually Reece calls me Cathy,’ I said to Mrs Morrison. ‘It’s not so confusing for him then.’ She nodded. It was a mistake made by a lot of people, calling the foster carer ‘mum’. But we are always called by our first names, acknowledging that the child already has a mother, unless the child has been with the carer for years and isn’t seeing his or her natural mother, in which case it is left to the child to use whatever name he or she feels comfortable with.

  I followed as Mrs Morrison and Reece went up a flight of stairs and to a door on the left labelled ‘staff room’. She opened the door for me and then stood aside with Reece. ‘Help yourself to tea or coffee,’ she said. ‘Some of the staff will be in shortly. Betty, our secretary, wants to see you with some forms to sign, and also about dinner money. Betty was off sick yesterday when you visited.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I said to Mrs Morrison; then, before going into the staff room, I gave Reece a big hug and kissed his forehead. ‘You have a lovely day and I’ll see you at three twenty.’ The head had asked that I didn’t see Reece in the building, only that I was present as a precautionary measure in case there was a problem.

  He returned my hug and then asked quite sensibly, ‘What do I do with my coat and PE bag?’

  ‘We will do that first,’ Mrs Morrison said. ‘I’ll show you where your peg is in the cloakroom.’

  I hugged him again; then as they turned and headed back towards the stairs, I went into the empty staff room. I didn’t want a drink — I’d just had breakfast — so I sat in one of the armchairs and looked around. Carpeted in dark beige, with magnolia walls, the room was similar in its furnishings to other primary school staff rooms I’d been in. A dozen or more chairs of various shapes and sizes surrounded two long low coffee tables. There were two higher tables with computers, and lots of cupboards and work areas which were littered with piles of books and papers. There was a stainless-steel sink at one end, and beside that was a kettle with a jar of coffee and a box of tea bags. On the wall above hung a dozen or more mugs on a wooden rack. The room was light and airy, and patterned curtains hung at the windows. Staff meetings would presumably take place here, and the staff would seek respite from the school at break and lunchtimes here. I now realized that I should have brought a book with me to read, for as I understood it I would be remaining here until the end of the morning. I looked around for something to read, but there was nothing beyond piles of exercise books and paperwork that clearly belonged to individual members of staff.

  The door opened and a young woman in black trousers and a li
ght grey blouse came in.

  ‘Mrs Glass? I’m Annette Broom, Reece’s teacher. Nice to meet you.’

  ‘And you.’ We shook hands. She was in her mid-twenties, tall, with long shiny black hair, and seemed very pleasant and efficient.

  ‘I have just met Reece briefly,’ she said sitting in the chair next to mine. ‘I will see him again when he comes into the class. Mrs Morrison is showing him around now. He’s hung his coat on his peg. He seems fine. I’ve read his statement of special educational needs. We haven’t heard from his social worker yet, but from what the head has told me Reece has settled with you and all the behaviour described in the statement is behind him.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I confirmed. ‘It’s Reece’s learning I’m more concerned with now. I’ve been trying to teach him a bit at home, but he is way behind.’

  ‘Yes, I can see from his statement. I’ll probably test him when he’s settled in to see exactly what stage he is at. I have another child in the class, Troy, who is special needs. He hasn’t had Reece’s behavioural problems, but I would think that they are about the same stage academically. I have put a place next to Troy for Reece, at the same table in the classroom, so they will be company for each other.’

  ‘Oh, that’s lovely,’ I said. ‘Thank you so much. Reece hasn’t got many friends.’

  She smiled. ‘It will be good for Troy too. He has difficulty making friends. Their work will be differentiated from that of the rest of the class, allowing for their needs, while still following the national curriculum.’ I was really impressed for, despite the short notice of Reece’s arrival, Annette Broom had clearly put a lot of thought and effort in integrating Reece back into school and making him feel welcome.

  ‘Do tell me what I can do to help him with his learning at home,’ I said. ‘I’m sure he can make real improvement now. He wants to learn, and was looking forward to coming to school.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, the head said. I’ll be starting him on a basic reading scheme. We use the Oxford Reading Tree scheme. Are you familiar with it?’ I nodded. ‘I’ll start Reece at level one to give him confidence and then he can go at his own pace.’

  ‘Terrific,’ I said. ‘Thank you so much for all you are doing.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ She smiled. ‘I need to go now, as I’m on playground duty this morning, but I’ll catch up with you later. Help yourself to tea or coffee.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m fine for now.’

  As Annette Broom left the staff room another woman came in.

  ‘I’m Betty Smith, the school secretary and general dogsbody,’ she said, smiling and coming over. ‘I’ve got some paperwork for you.’

  She sat in the chair that Miss Broom had just vacated and began working through the papers on her lap. The first was Reece’s school registration form, which needed all his details and the signature of his parent, together with consent forms that would allow him to do PE and go on any school outing.

  ‘I’m going to have to get Reece’s social worker to sign these,’ I said. ‘As his carer, I’m not allowed to, as I don’t have legal parental responsibility for him.’ This was the case with most forms that required the parent’s signature: the local authority acting in loco parentis — in place of the parent — had to give the necessary permission, which in practice meant the child’s social worker. ‘Can I take these with me? Then I can get him to sign them while I wait.’

  ‘Sure,’ she said. I held these forms on my lap as Betty passed me the next two sheets of paper. ‘Here is a copy of our term’s dates,’ she said, ‘and also the school’s policy.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I glanced at the top sheet. ‘So you break up next Wednesday for Easter?’

  ‘Yes, Easter is early this year, so it’s been a short term for us.’

  ‘That will be nice for Reece. He’ll have chance to settle in, and then have a break before the long summer term.’

  She nodded, and handed me another form. ‘I take it Reece is having school dinners?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Can you fill in that tear-off slip for me now, please? The dinner money is £2.00 a day, which to the end of term is £14.00.’ This was a form I could fill in so, taking the pen she offered me, I filled in Reece’s name, and then signed the slip that said I agreed to pay in advance for his school dinner. I handed it back to the secretary, and then delved into my handbag for my purse and gave her the £14.00.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. Then she passed me yet another form. ‘This is for his dinner money for next term. You can pay weekly, half-termly or termly. It is up to you.’ I looked at the list of amounts payable. It was a long term and therefore expensive. ‘I’ll pay half-termly,’ I said. ‘Would you like a cheque now?’

  ‘That would be helpful, yes, please.’

  I delved into my bag again and pulled out my chequebook. I wrote a cheque for £70.00, tore it off and passed it to her.

  ‘Thanks. And this is a copy of the school’s prospectus,’ she said, passing me the last document. ‘I don’t suppose the head remembered to give you one yesterday.’

  ‘No. Thank you very much.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ She stood. ‘Well, let’s hope Reece settles in, for all our sakes.’

  I looked at her and smiled. ‘He will,’ I said, and I thought that clearly Reece’s reputation had preceded him, for even the school secretary who had been off sick yesterday seemed to be aware of his past.

  As Betty left the staff room, a procession of teachers began entering, all saying hello and introducing themselves before leaving with a mug of coffee each. At 8.50 the bell sounded and I was alone again in the staff room. Now I had some reading material, and I began looking through the prospectus to gain a better idea of the school. In fact I read it from cover to cover before the staff room door opened again at 9.45 and the headmaster, Mr Fitzgerald, came in.

  ‘Everything is all right so far,’ he said, remaining by the door. ‘Reece is with Mrs Morrison in his classroom now. If he is still all right by lunch, then you can go.’

  ‘Fine,’ I said. Although I had warmed somewhat to Mr Fitzgerald, having appreciated that his initial reaction was based on seeing Reece’s statement and not knowing of his subsequent improvement, I still found his manner over-formal and cool. ‘Help yourself to coffee,’ he said stiffly before leaving. I did this time. Then I returned to my chair and began filling in Reece’s registration forms, apart from the one that would require Jamey Hogg’s signature.

  I thought that, assuming I was dismissed at twelve noon, I could phone Jamey as soon as I got home and arrange to take the forms to him for signing. I also wanted to discuss with him the possibility of taking Reece on a week’s holiday at Easter. I hadn’t booked anything yet, but I thought it would be nice for the girls, Reece and me to have a short break at the coast. My son, Adrian, had already said he wouldn’t be coming home from university for Easter — he had decided to spend two weeks with his mates in Spain. It was the first time he hadn’t come home for the holidays, but I recognized that at twenty he had his own life to lead, although I still missed him.

  At 10.45 the bell rang for morning break and the staff room filled again with teachers making coffee and generally chatting. Annette Broom took the opportunity to update me on what Reece had been doing so far — some number work and science, where he had had the same work sheet as Troy. Mrs Morrison had sat between them, helping them both.

  ‘No problems?’ I asked.

  ‘No, although we have to keep reminding him to talk more quietly. It’s a long time since he’s been in a classroom and he’s obviously excited. We’re doing PE later. Has he got his PE kit?’

  ‘Yes. He had it with him this morning.’

  ‘Mrs Morrison will have put it on his coat peg. So I’ll see you at the end of morning lessons then.’ Annette Broom smiled and left to talk to a colleague. Ten minutes later the bell sounded and the staff room cleared again. It was now eleven o’clock and I flicked through the papers Mrs Morrison had given m
e and found that the morning finished at twelve noon. I took my mobile, which I had left on silent, from my bag, and checked the messages. There was a text from Nicola saying, ‘Good luck. He’ll be fine!’, which was very sweet of her. I texted back: ‘Thanks. He is!’

  With the staff room empty, and warm, I rested my head back in the armchair and could easily have dozed off. As much as Reece had been excited about his first day at his new school, I had been excited for him and also apprehensive. Now he was here and settling in, I could relax. I felt my eyes begin to close, but then caught myself and sat upright. I could hardly be found asleep in the staff room if anyone came in. I made myself another coffee, found the staff toilet, and then wandered around the staff room looking at the notice boards, and out of the window to the playground.

  A class was in the playground for PE, running around and throwing small beanbags to each other. As I looked I saw Annette Broom, and then further over Mrs Morrison with Reece. They were standing completely separately from the rest of the class, throwing a plastic football back and forth. Reece was dropping it more times than he was catching it, and I saw from his clumsy attempts just how uncoordinated he was. The reason he was doing this activity separately from the rest of the class was obvious: he could never have coordinated his movements enough to have thrown and caught the hand-sized beanbags while running at the same time. I was taken aback by seeing him now compared to his peer group. It was a stark comparison, emphasizing how much catching up Reece had to do in all things before he came anywhere near the level he should be at. I was sad for him, for I would have loved to see him completely integrated in his class. I vowed to continue to do everything possible to help him to fulfil his potential.

  At midday the bell went and the staff room filled again. Mr Fitzgerald appeared and sat in the chair next to me.

  ‘I expect you want to go now,’ he said.

  ‘Well, yes, if Reece’s OK.’

  He hesitated. ‘He is, but he became a bit overexcited after PE. I understand from Annette Broom that he has settled down again now.’ I didn’t think that overexcitement was too big a crime and I hoped the head wasn’t going to view any excitement on Reece’s part as a sign of impending trouble. ‘You go then,’ he added. ‘We have your mobile number if we need you.’